ourselves close against the parapet. Then suddenly everything seemed
uncomfortably quiet. Wounded were screaming and groaning all about us;
men, who had not been struck, were muttering to themselves--driven half
mad by the bombardment; but, the instant the roar of the guns and shell
explosions ceased, all seemed still. The Prussians were undoubtedly
preparing to charge us, but they must have been slow in getting started.
We got hurried orders to get ready to go over the top and surprise them.

I thought of but one thing as I ran forward; that was--"Blighty." On going
to billets it had been my intention to write to the folks at home the next
day after getting a rest, but our stay had been so short that to do so had
been impossible. And now my thought was: "Perhaps I sha'n't return."

The Prussians seemed surprised by our quick attack, and the offensive was
wrested from them. We became the assaulters. How I got through the
entanglement I cannot tell. All I know is that I left part of my kilt
dangling amid the wires. However, before we reached their trench line, the
Prussians had scrambled over their parapet to meet us. In the general
mix-up I found myself locked in the arms of a bear-like Prussian Guardsman
who evidently had lost his rifle and bayonet. His knee was at my knee--his
chest pressed against my chest. Our faces touched.

I slid my hands up along the barrel of my rifle until they were almost
under the hilt of the bayonet. Very slowly I shoved the butt back of me
and to the side. Lower and lower I dropped it. The keen blade was between
us. All the Hun seemed to know about wrestling was to hug. He dared not
let go. Had he known a few tricks of the game, I should not be writing
this to-day.

Instinctively I felt that the point of my bayonet was in line with his
throat. With every ounce of strength in my body, I wrenched my shoulders
upward and straightened my knees. The action broke his hold, and my
bayonet was driven into his greasy throat. His arms relaxed; I was
drenched with blood, but it was not my own. I staggered away from him,
wrenching my rifle free as he fell.

The thrust I had used has come to be known as the "jab point"; they are
teaching it to the American army to-day. It developed naturally from just
such situations as I have described.

It was an awful _melee_. There were men swinging rifles overhead; others,
kicking, punching, and tearing at their adversaries; while others again,
wrestling, had